She Lost Her Sense of Light
by CosetteUnique
Summary: Emma went through hell, one created specifically for her, and somehow managed to get out of it alive. But, suffering from severe PTSD, she relives those memories every single day of her life, living in constant fear. When she is introduced to a young man named Spencer Reid, everything she knew changes forever. (Starts before Spencer joins the B.A.U.)
1. Prologue: Emma

**Prologue: Emma**

 _25_ _th_ _of August, 2012_

 _Eyes closed, I forced myself to concentrate on the sounds around me, I had become a very good listener. There was no sign of movement in the house, everything was silent. I wasn't sure if he was home, perhaps not._

 _My skin felt cold whereas my forehead was burning up. The stone walls and floor felt cold on my body, so I curled up on the mattress, making sure my body wasn't touching them. There was no heating in the room of eight steps by six steps. I had counted it many times._

 _I suspected it must've been winter by now, the cold had never gotten to me like this. The only cover I had was an oversized white shirt and my underwear. No blankets. No pillows. I resided on an old mattress which had been way overused before it was placed in this room. In the middle was a hole where I had sat too much, no I sat mainly on the left side, which was already starting to show signs of wearing out too._

 _Moving was painful. I tried to move daily, walk circles, squares, pace up and down or try to stretch. Some days were more painful than other ones, depending on the bruises and the place he had hurt me._

 _This was one of the painful days, I had laid still for too long, causing my body to feel stiff. I forced myself upwards and simply sat up for a while, feeling my back complaining every second of it._

 _I knew every inch of this room. There was a steel door which had nothing but a keyhole on the inside, after unlocking it, he would push it open. There was an old sink on the wall, with no tap so there was no water. Under it was a bucket which I used instead of a toilet. I hadn't seen a toilet in a long time. Months- years maybe? There was no sense of time in here. It was hard to judge whether it was day or night. There was a tiny window, high in one of the walls, which a toddler might be able to squeeze through. It had been painted black on the outside, leaving no light to fill the room but a small weak lightbulb hanging on the sealing._

 _But sometimes, when he was away, I opened the window and could see a small snippet of the pavement. It was a small alley and I could not look further then the gutter, but it was special to me, it was the only thing that somewhat brought me in contact with the outside world. The only thing that reminded me that there were still people out there, maybe they were even looking for me._

 _Openings the window slightly let more light inside the. That was what I craved for every single day, a view rays of light. It was as if those rays of light dragged me out of this terrible reality, as if there was still hope._

 _My gaze wandered off towards the window. It was staring back at me, challenging me to push it open. I bit my dry and cracked bottom lip. I usually waited for at least long enough for me to mumble a story to myself, as if I were reading it to a child. The stories varied._

 _I held my breath and continued to listen carefully; I heard no sign of his presence, only the sound of the creaky old walls suffering because of the wind and the rain that gently tapped on the window. I remained still for several minutes, checking once more whether there was any sign of life in the house. I decided that he had to be away and made the decision to try to open the window._

 _I listened attentively and then slowly crept up, supporting my weak body by holding on to the wall. My legs hurt, having to support my weight is something that they didn't do often. As I made my way towards the window and forced myself to stand on my toes. Doing so I was able to reach the handle, took a deep breath and pushed the window open slightly._

 _The smell of garbage and dirt entered my nostrils and I smiled. It was much better than the smell of this small room which was filled with my sweat, dirt and feces._

 _I hadn't pushed hard enough to open the window in a way that light would pass through it, I decided to give it another push._

 _As I did so, the window creaked loudly causing me to freeze immediately, anxiously listening for any sign that could indicate that he had heard me, if he was home in the first place. I breathed heavily and trembled slightly. No sound._

 _I breathed out. I wasn't sure if my knees could carry me for much longer than this, so I let myself slide down on the old mattress._

 _I stared at the old wooden window, allowing light to shine through softly. In the light I could see my own body; scarred and bruised arms and legs. Some places had burn marks, shaped like small circles which colored dark red._

 _A few days ago I had counted all of them; forty-three._

 _He had put forty-three cigarettes out on my skin. I thought back to the excruciating burning pain, the helpless feeling it would give me. I hated that feeling; knowing that I couldn't do anything to stop it. Praying to someone, God, anyone to make it stop, anyone who would listen. But no one ever did._

 _In the beginning I was still driven by hope. Hope that I could escape, or the hope that someone would find me. No one did. I could only wait, knowing that this was my life and that this was the place I was going to die, I just waited for death to claim me. Why I waited? I have absolutely no idea._

 _I had my eyes open for so long, they had started to sting. Watching the thin rays of light shine on the floor was as hypnotizing and entertaining as it could get for me. There was nothing here, just me and my imagination._

 _I noticed I started to go drowsy and had to try hard to keep my eyes open, fixed on the lights. I closed them for just a couple of seconds, knowing I had lost to the dark and feel asleep with my back against the cold hard wall._

 _BANG! My eyes shot open wide. I immediately recognized the sound of a door opening. Not the door to this room, but another one. I knew that when I would hear that sound, it would be exactly 42 seconds before he would reach the door of this room. My eyes shot up to the window that I had pushed open. I crawled up and struggled not to make any sounds. My heart beat in my chest and I knew I was panicking. Just as my hand almost reached the handle of the window, I heard footsteps on the stairs. I started to pull on the handle harder, but it was like the rusty lever had chosen sides; his side._

 _Footsteps in the hallway. I knew it was too late. With tears in my eyes I dropped back on the mattress, pulled up my legs to my body, hugged them with my arms and cradled myself while staring frantically at the wall. I heard the rambling of the key in the door lock and heard the soft click which indicated that it was unlocked. The door opened slowly. I did not look._

 _Something fell on the ground with a blow. A brown mixture splashed on the ground in front of me, staining the mattress and splashing the sticky sauce on my feet._

 _'Eat!' he barked at me._

 _I looked in his direction with downcast eyes, too scared to look him in the eye, anxiously waiting for him to find out what I had done._

 _He had a cigarette in his mouth and looked at me with confused expression on his face, as if he was trying to solve a crossword puzzle. I was behaving differently than I usually did and he knew. He let some smoke escape from his mouth and calmly allowed his eyes to glide through the room. His eyes stopped moving when he saw the window that still stood ajar. He showed no emotion as he looked back at me._

 _'So. Breaking the rules, are we? 'He asked calmly and walk towards me slowly. I crawled into the corner and tried to make myself even smaller, hideaway in my arms who couldn't protect me from him for long._

 _He grabbed my chin with his right hand, jerking my head up and forcing me to look him in the eyes. He blew a stale of cigarette smoke from his mouth, creating a burning feeling in my eyes._

 _He nipped on his cigarette again before he grabbed the cigarette with his thumb and index finger. I knew what was coming, I knew what I was going to feel. I began to squeal and tried to pull my arm away, but he held it firmly._

 _'Please. No- please don't- ' I pleaded, tears streaming from my eyes._ _His eyes were cold and empty, but I closed mine when I felt how he put out the 300 to 400 degree burning cigarette on my skin. I screamed in pain and tried to pry my arm away helplessly, but his grip was too strong, and I was too weak._

 _He pulled the cigarette from my skin and threw it on the ground. He reinforced his grip and pressed me against the wall harshly, making me shriek out in pain._ _I felt tears streaming down my face, afraid of what he was going to do to me this time._


	2. Chapter 1: Emma

**Chapter 1: Emma**

 _17th of July, 2004_

'Mick, are you sure this is a good idea?'' Jenny asked, talking across from me as usual. It didn't bother me much. We were sitting outside in the garden, the sun shone brightly and made me kick my sandals off so I could rest my bare feet in the grass and tickle my toes. I loved the grass, because grass meant that I was outside and not locked between four walls.

''Jenny- I know that you're worried, but Dr. Gregor said we should let her deal with it head on otherwise she'll never recover,'' Mick said as he was trying to convince Jenny about his best intentions.

It had been six months since Jenny and her husband Mick had taken me in and almost a year since I was rescued by the police from the basement that I had been kept in. For the first couple of months, the hospital had been my home. I was treated for infections, broken ribs, a broken arm, starvation and many other injuries. I wasn't allowed to go outside because my eyes were too sensitive. I had completely lost my sense of light.

I had recovered from most of my injuries even though I still had plenty of scars that I always tried to hide under my clothes. Through these scars, he would always be a part of me.

But I hurt the most on the inside. When I closed my eyes, I would see things, things that had happened, things that he had done to me. I couldn't remember everything; it came back to me in nightmares and illusions. I had tried to stuff those memories in a box, throw them away, get rid of them. But Dr. Gregor, my psychiatrist, told me that I had to try and remember those memories instead of trying to push them away. I had to write them down in a journal for him.

It wasn't long before they told me that I had PTSD, Posttraumatic Stress Disorder. I was told that it takes time to process the memories and that, as time would pass, they would fade. I turned twenty last year. I wondered how long it would take for me to go back to normal. A year? Ten years? Maybe I would never go back to normal. My father had taken that away from me.

Mick and Jenny were still arguing on whether they should take me to my first police interview. The police hadn't been able to speak to me since the moment I entered the hospital. I hadn't been close to anyone, especially not men. I was comfortable enough to speak with Mick now, I even hugged Jenny last week.

Mick and Jenny were my foster parents, they were the people who were supposed to take care of me now, the people who were supposed to fix me. But I couldn't be fixed, could I?

''We're going,'' I heard Mick say. I felt a knot tie in my stomach. Outside, we were going outside. I held my breath and closed my eyes for a moment. We were going outside.

''Honey, we should leave in ten minutes,'' Jenny softly said as she lightly touched my shoulder. I jumped slightly and looked up to her. I forced an apologetic smile on my face and nodded.

I went up to my room to change into jeans and a grey vest. My room was large and spacious. All the walls were white and there was a big window that Mick had placed especially for me. It let so much light into the room that the walls almost seemed to shine. The window had no lock. It gave me the feeling that I was always able to leave, never locked inside like I had been before.

* * *

I fumbled with my fingers as we started nearing the Sentara Virginia Beach Hospital. Next to the building was a side entrance that lead to the Virginia Beach Psychiatric Center where my psychiatrist Dr. Gregor was usually stationed. Normally he only saw me at our house on the porch, but since he thought it wasn't a good idea to bring unknown officers into our house or make me go to a police station, we were meeting here.

It had been months since I had been in the hospital. As we walked towards the entrance, I didn't know how to feel. I felt as though instead of them nudging me out of my comfort zone, they were throwing me out and over the edge off a cliff. I clenched my fists and dug my nails into the palm of my hand. I looked around me warily as I stuck close to Jenny's side. There were so many unfamiliar faces that they made me feel uneasy.

When we got to the office, Dr. Gregor offered me a hand as usual. I didn't shake it, as usual. I sat down in the chair, feeling extremely uncomfortable. Dr. Gregor was speaking in hushed tones with Mick, while Jenny was fumbling in her bag for some paperwork. I nervously looked around the room, desperately trying to focus on something else. I just had to get this over with and then Mick and Jenny would take me back home.

There was a knock on the door, even though it was open. There was a woman, dressed in police uniform, standing in the doorway. I felt my muscles tense a bit less and took a deep breath.

''Emma honey, we are going to be just around the corner on the left, call us when you need us, okay?'' Jenny said in a kind and worried tone. I nodded. I had to be brave for once. After Mick and Jenny left, the room fell silent for a moment.

''Hi Emma. I'm Officer McClain, but you can call me Susan if you want to,'' she said with a friendly voice. I warily studied her face which looked kind and trustworthy. Playful auburn curls and freckles on her cheeks made her look like an Irish woman. When she realized that she wasn't going to get a reply from me she got put her paperwork and looked at me.

''So- Emma, how have you been? Do you like your new home?'' Susan asked me. I was about to answer a simple yes when there was a slight knock on the door.

''Sorry I'm late,'' a heavy male voice said as he approached the chair next to Susan's. I looked up and froze immediately, my heart immediately starting to beat loudly in my chest. Even though the man was wearing a police uniform, the face of my father was staring back at me. I felt a feeling of panic, desperation and disbelief running through my body and looked towards the door.

''Emma- are you o-, '' Dr. Gregor asked but before he could finish I had thrown back my chair and ran for the door.

''Emma- no!''

I was out the door and into the hallway as fast as I could. I anxiously looked over my shoulder to find that he was following me. He found me. He found me and he was going to drag me back to that dark basement to punish me, and I would never see the daylight again.

My heart was pounding in my chest as I hastily took in my surroundings, desperately looking for the exit. I couldn't think straight, feeling as though my brain had turned into this hurricane of thoughts that was dragging me down to a place where I couldn't think at all. I heard running footsteps closing in. I felt tears starting to form in my eyes. He was going to catch me and drag me back to that basement. And this time I was never coming out again.

I made for the main entrance just a twenty feet away from me. I felt my knees go weak as I pushed through the door to run out of the building. I made for the road as I heard loud voices behind me, my father's the loudest of them all. His voice echoed in my head, though I did not know what he was saying.

As I turned my head back to look over my shoulder I felt my right shoe hook behind an badly placed brick. I quickly lost my balance and crashed into the pavement. I felt was a heavy smack on my forehead that made me wince in pain. More footsteps. He was here.

''Emma- calm down,'' my father said as he stood beside me. Tears were streaming down my face as I tried to back away from him. He was lying, he was good at that. I knew I had lost. I curled up, protecting my head with my arms as I felt blood running from from forehead down on my arm.

''She's hurt, we must get her inside.'' As my father was about to touch me the only thing that I could do was scream, scream as loud as I could. My scream echoed over the ground and could be heard from almost a mile away.

''Stop! Stay back she's afraid of you,'' another male voice said, I didn't recognize it.

My father backed off slightly. Why was he backing off. I didn't understand. What was happening. I moved my hands from my head downwards, wrapping them around my legs and started cradling myself. I closed my eyes and muttered to myself. Why was my father being so kind, was this all real?

A young man went to his knees in front of me and silently studied me for a while. I blankly stared at his light brown cardigan without looking up. I was breathing irregularly, still muttering to myself as I rocked myself back and forth; ''This isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real.''

''Sir, you should leave,'' the young man mumbled as he tried to catch my gaze. I saw my father backing off, his face slightly worried. When he turned around and left I realized that it wasn't real. None of it had been real. Was I losing my mind?

''I'm crazy,'' I managed to breathe out as I caught my breath and felt tears streaming down my face.

''Look at me,'' he said as I reluctantly looked up, ''- you are not crazy.'' As I looked in his brown eyes I realized that for just one second, I believed him.

''My name is Spencer Reid, what's yours?''

* * *

HI guys!

Sorry that it took such a long time, I was very sick and was caught up in festivities (St. Patrick's Day and all). But- I'm back! In the next chapter you'll find out more about when this all takes place and where Spencer is in his life right now;)

Please leave a review if you like it or if you have any writing tips for me.

x **Cosette**


	3. Chapter 2: Spencer

**Chapter 2: Spencer**

I felt anything but calm as I saw the brown-haired girl cradling herself, sitting on the middle of the pavement, barely aware of her surroundings. There was blood on her forehead, caused when she crashed headfirst into the pavement. She seemed to be hyperventilating, gasping for air while she was rocking back and forth, trying to make sense of it all. The policeman that she had appeared to be running from was getting closer to her and tried to calm her down, clearly not understanding why she was so afraid of him.

If he was being so kind and caring, why was she afraid? As he bent downwards to try and help her up, she let out a terrifying scream that caused goosebumps to form on my skin. She looked at him as though he was the devil incarnate. She whimpered and crawled back until there was some distance between her and the man, and resumed rocking herself back and forth. The policeman seemed intent on helping her and tried to approach her again.

''Stop! Stay back. She's afraid of you,'' I said as I continued to study her. The policeman backed off slightly. The look on her face showed both fear and confusion. She closed her eyes and started talking to herself. I went to my knees in front of her and studied her in silence. She fixed her eyes on the fabric of my cardigan and didn't look up.

''This isn't real, this isn't real, this isn't real.''

As soon as I heard her muttering those words I had an inkling of what was going in her mind. She had most likely gone through a traumatic experience which caused her to have an over-reactive adrenaline response, which then created deep neurological patterns in the brain. These patterns were most likely triggered by the policeman, causing her to have a hyper-responsive reaction. It could've been anything. Something he said, someone he looks like.

''Sir, you should leave,'' I said while not taking my eyes of the girl in front of me. To any normal person she would like a crazy person, but I knew that she wasn't. Something she had gone through had triggered this response. The policeman backed away unsurely, immediately calming the girl down a bit.

She noticed he backed away and looked around her, looking like a child who lost her mother in a big supermarket. She looked confused, scared and frustrated at the same time.

''I'm crazy,'' she breathed out as tears were streaming down her face. I couldn't bear the idea of this girl thinking that she was some lunatic while I knew that she wasn't. I knew how it felt to be afraid of your own mind.

''Look at me,'' I said, waiting for her to look up until I continued talking, ''- you are not crazy.'' I said and looked into her bright green eyes that looked back at me with a tired and undecided gaze, like she was trying to decide if I was good or evil.

''My name is Spencer Reid, what's yours?''

''Emma,'' she managed to mutter under her breath while she wiped some tears off her cheeks. I smiled nervously at her, not sure what I was supposed to do to help her.

''Emma darling, are you okay?!' A woman muttered with a very worried look on her face, approaching Emma. The woman aided me in helping her up.

''Don't worry Emma, let's get you back to my office,'' a grey-haired man said, wearing a hospital badge on his right hip. The woman gave me a short nod before she took over Emma and started guiding her back inside the building. I stared at them for a while, not knowing what to do.

''You did a good job boy, would you like to come inside for a moment? Tell us about what happened?'' the grey-haired man next to me said. I was annoyed about him calling me ''boy'', as many others usually did. I already had my P.H.D in Mathematics and my B.A. is Sociology and philosophy, soon psychology as well. Just because I was twenty-two didn't mean I was a boy. I was soon to be called doctor.

''Well?'' he said, waiting for my answer. I looked over my shoulder to the bus stop. I had just come here to pick up some books from one of my professors. I had found that the library didn't offer everything I needed, but had a professor who gladly wanted to lend me some of his books.

I would most likely be late for my lecture on the Oedipus complex. I saw Emma being guided back inside the hospital building. My curiosity and concern for the girl won. Plus, most likely the lecturer wouldn't have anything new to tell me anyways.

''Yes, yes of course.''

Five minutes later I was seated in one of the slightly uncomfortable chairs in the doctor's office. He introduced himself to me as Dr Gregor. There was an awkward silence in the room. Dr Gregor was seated opposite of me, Emma next to me and the older couple to our left on the even more uncomfortable chairs next to the wall. I could tell that they weren't family, Emma hadn't inherited any of their physical traits and it was clear to me that there was some sort of barrier between them that would not usually be seen between children and their parents. She was most likely in their care, but hadn't been for a long time.

After some awkward introductions, I decided I would start talking before Dr Gregor started to ask the question of what had happened.

''I think she had a hyper-responsive reaction which was set of by neurological patterns in her brain. These were probably triggered by the policeman, he-'' I looked at Emma who was studying her shoes, I felt very uncomfortable about having to talk about this with he in the room, ''-he probably reminded her of someone she previously knew,'' I concluded. I got looks from everyone in the room, including Emma.

''-do you work around here or something?'' Dr Gregor asked.

''No I study,'' I mumbled.

''Well young man- you are right, that is exactly what happened,'' he said. I noticed that he had refrained from calling me ''boy'' again. I looked at Emma shortly and was surprised that she looked back at me. She still looked shook-up, but somehow managed to give me a slight smile from the corner of her lips. I smiled back at her, awkwardly as usual. I looked back at the doctor.

''For how long has she been treated so far?'' I asked knowing that her fight-or-flight response wasn't anything close to that of an average human. She had ended up on the ground, shaking, rocking herself and she showed signs of tunnel vision, dilated pupils and general shock.

'''Six months I believe.''

''Six months?! How is that possible? What treatment has she had?'' I asked with a shocked looked on my face. The caretakers behind us stirred, clearly showing interest in why I was so shocked. Emma looked at me as well.

''I cannot share that information with you sir,'' Dr Gregor said, now calling me sir instead of young man.

''She gets antidepressants and has to write down memories that come back to her in a diary,'' the lady behind us, named Jenny, said. The doctor seemed frustrated that she had shared that information.

''Jenny-'' her husband said, clearly feeling that she shouldn't be sharing this information.

''That's it? Doctor, there are clearly signs that what she has gone through is effecting her severely, why hasn't she gone through cognitive behavioural therapy? These patterns in her brain clearly trigger negative emotions, these needs to be modified before this damage becomes permanent,'' I said with a severe tone in my voice. The doctor did not seem amused.

''Mr Reid, I'm perfectly able to help Emma, I am the doctor here and even though I appreciate your opinion, I must disagree with you here,'' he said in an annoyed tone.

I felt angry, which I didn't feel very often. How could this man not see in six months, what I had seen in ten minutes? Dr Gregor looked angry, Emma confused, Mick uncertain and Jenny upset.

''I should get back to class,'' I said grinding my teeth. I grabbed my brown leather bag off the floor and got up from my seat. No one said anything or even thanked me when I headed out the door. I felt frustrated and angry; Dr Gregor might have good intentions but he wasn't skilled enough to help Emma the way that she should've been helped.

When I was about to exit through the hospital doors I heard someone calling out my name.

''Mr Reid please- please wait.'' I turned around and saw Jenny running towards me. I felt guilty for storming out like that.

''Mr Reid-''

''Call me Spencer.''

''Spencer- I- I feel like there was sense in what you said and- well- we haven't thanked you for helping Emma out there,'' she said with a kind but still worried look on her face. I gave her a small thankful smile in return.

''Will you- please come to dinner with us? This Sunday perhaps?'' she asked. I stared at her for a moment. I wasn't sure if it was appropriate, or if Emma even wanted me to come for dinner. I wasn't sure what to answer.

''Please? Emma hasn't been that calm around a man as when she sat in that office next to you, I think- you could help her. Somehow. Just- being around her,'' she said with a desperate look on her face. Was Jenny speaking truthfully? Was I actually able to help? The curiosity inside me grew and made me want to find out. I mean- if this doctor wasn't able to really help Emma, maybe I was?

''Well- ok. I would love to come to dinner,'' I said politely. Jenny smiled and scribbled down the address and the time that I needed to be there. I already felt nervous even though Sunday was three days away.

''Thank you so much Spencer, I'll see you on Sunday,'' she said with a relieved smile and returned to Dr Gregor's office. I stared at the small note in my hand for a while and smiled slightly. My phone beeped and I knew that it was most likely one of my classmates asking why I was late for the lecture.

* * *

 **Hi everyone:) Thanks for reading my story. If you like it, please leave a review.**

 **x Cosette**


	4. Chapter 3: Emma

**Chapter 3: Emma**

 _I had to try hard not to shut my eyes, but my eyelids were heavy and would soon close. My eyes burned, I was too afraid to close them, even if it were for a split second, fearing to fall asleep. Tears burned my eyes. One hung from my eyelashes and created a glittering sight for my eyes, giving me the illusion of sunlight._

 _I couldn't tell how long ago it was that I had slept. Maybe I had dozed off for a couple of minutes yesterday. But by this time, I was so tired that I knew I wouldn't be able to open my eyes again after closing them. You will never truly appreciate or realize how good it is to sleep, to doze off and just leave this world for a couple of hours. I thought off the promise that my dad had made in that chilling voice that still gave me goosebumps; ''I will break your bones if you close your eyes.''_

 _I soon realized how this might have been the worst thing that he had ever done to me so far. It sounds easy, staying awake, but no human can stay awake forever, eventually your body will just shut down. Maybe it was for the best- to eventually fall into a long endless sleep, without ever having to wake up again._

 _At first I tried to stay awake by focusing on the horrible stench in this room. The smell of cigarettes, mold and feces. As much as you might think that a human would never get used to living conditions like these, they do. Eventually you don't smell the stench anymore, and the constant pain will become a daily routine. But it was the more horrible pain that I feared. The fear of him breaking my bones. I might never be able to walk again; a thing that kept me hoping for recovery, should I ever make it out of here._

 _I felt my mind doze off again and was too tired to fight it. I had to go asleep some time, I couldn't stay awake forever. Maybe, I could close my eyes for just a couple of hours. He had just left the house- if I would wake up in time, I might be awake before he'd be back and he would never have noticed._

 _I closed my eyes and sighed in relief as the painful dry feeling in my eyes disappeared and I fell into a sleep that was full of dreams. The dream was so peaceful that I was most likely sleeping with a light smile on my face. My dreams were filled with sunlight, raspberries, the smell of cinnamon, the sound of music, voices, people walking around smiling at me- actually noticing me. I wasn't alone anymore. It felt as though the dream took days on end- and would never stop._

 _But it did stop. I woke to an immense sudden feeling of pain in my rib cage and thought that I felt something snap. I gasped for air but had difficulty breathing without being in an immense feeling of agony and pain. I tried to move but as soon as I did, my hair was pulled roughly and I was confronted with the image of him. The smell of cigarettes and alcohol filled my nostrils as he tightened the grip on my hair. ''Wake up you little cunt!''_

''Emma? Emma!''. My eyes opened rapidly and saw an older woman. As I tried to catch my breath, I slowly realized that it had been a dream, just a memory, and that the woman sitting next to my bed was Jenny.

''Emma darling- are you alright?'' she asked, clearly worried. I nodded and rubbed my eyes. Jenny had opened the curtains; it was clearly already past midday. I smelled something, and the smell of cinnamon. It was what I had been smelling in my dream. Just as I was wondering why Jenny would cook in the afternoon, I realized today was Sunday. Spencer.

I still didn't quite know why Jenny had invited him. Was she hoping that he could help? Do something that Dr Gregor couldn't? Or maybe she was just hoping that I would finally have social contact with someone that wasn't Mick or Jenny. Either of those reasons are a good one.

''Why don't you take a nice bath hmm? You're sweating like crazy,'' she smiled her usual warm smile and walked towards the bathroom to fill the bathtub. I never objected to things that Jenny proposed, plus maybe I felt uncomfortable telling her that I didn't want to do something.

I took my time, having a long bath and later fumbling around with the old record player that Mick had put in my room. I knew all the records they had already, but still loved the sound of them. The smells from the kitchen downstairs started to intensify and I knew dinner wouldn't be long anymore.

I was very occupied with trying to be occupied. Keeping my mind of things. I was nervous of Spencer coming to dinner. He had seemed like such a nice guy. I would probably just freak him out, have another illusion or be too afraid to talk to him. Even the idea of him being in the normal comforts of our house was strange, but not scary somehow.

Only an hour later I heard the doorbell. I walked towards my bedroom window and looked at Spencer standing in front of our front door with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. He wore a light purple lined shirt with a collar, which was half-hidden under a comfortable jumper. He wore a dark brown pants and Converse to top it all off.

I didn't want to look like a scared freak like last time, so I forced myself to descend the stairs, while I could already hear Jenny, Spencer and Mick talking in the living room. The talk seemed to be about my medicine, which Jenny was showing to Spencer who only needed to look at them for a single second and already knew the names and all the effects they had. He seemed puzzled and was thinking hard on something. Jenny looked up and noticed me.

''Ah there you are Emma,'' she smiled. Spencer turned around, the medicine case still in his hand. He smiled slightly, it seemed more out of politeness. Maybe awkwardness.

''Hi Emma,'' he said as he placed the medicine back in the cupboard. ''-are you well?'' he asked, sounding very much like a doctor. He scratched his neck and didn't seem to know how to behave in this situation. Good, neither did I. Luckily Mick broke the awkward silence and lead us to the dinner table which, for once, was set for four people instead of three. I sat down next to Jenny as usual and Spencer was quick to take the seat opposite of me. It was safe to say that Jenny prepared enough food to feed an entire orphanage.

It was clear that they didn't want to start dinner with the topic of my PTSD, so Spencer was asked about what he studied. He told us that he studied Psychology, Mathmetics, Chemistry, Engineering, and already had two Bachelor degrees in Sociology and Philosophy. It was then that I realized that he was some child prodigy genius. To be fair, it made me feel very dumb, since I hadn't even finished high school for obvious reasons. Next year Dr Gregor wanted me to start attending school again.

During the entire course of our dinner I could tell that Spencer was curious. He wanted to know more. But it didn't seem to be anything about the nosy curiosity of people who were always looking for drama to gossip about. No, Spencer seemed genuinely curious, and it frightened me a bit.

''So Spencer-'' Mick started and I knew he was going to ask. ''That confrontation with Dr Gregor was quite- out of the ordinary. And we can't help thinking that you might be right. You know- about the uh-'' he mumbled, forgetting what the term was that Spencer had used.

''Cognitive behavioral therapy?'' Spencer asked. Mick nodded.

''What does it do exactly- how uh- does it work?'' Mick asked and I looked at Spencer, slightly scared but curious at the same time.

''The therapy seeks to change the way a person feels and acts by changing patterns of thinking and behavior that are responsible for negative emotions'' he said as if this was a simple equation. We just stared at him and it took a frown before he realized that he had to simplify his speech.

''In general terms we would call it- rewriting trigger emotions. Through therapy Emma would learn to identify what makes them afraid or upset and we replace those things with less distressing thoughts.''

Jenny nodded slowly, ''So- you would just talk? Make her remember all the things that happened?'' Jenny said in a tone as if it were an easy thing to do. I felt my throat go dry quickly. The idea of having to relive those memories on purpose and revealing them to other people made me anxious and sick to my stomach.

''Would you be interested in giving it a try Spencer? We would very much like you to help Emma, if you would,'' Mick asked in an almost pleading voice. The reality of this conversation hit me like a ton of bricks. They wanted me to remember- to relive- to talk. Before Spencer was able to answer I had pushed back my chair and made for the stairs as fast as I could. No one at the table made a sound and just let me run upstairs, like Mick and Jenny normally would.

I made for my bed and sat on top of it, wrapping my arms around my legs, pulling them up to my chest. I knew that they were only trying to care for me, to make sure I would be okay. But I wasn't ready for this. All I wanted to do was live in this house and stay here forever. I heard a soft knock on the door.

''Emma?'' I recognized Spencer's voice. The door opened slightly and Spencer peeked around the corner. He didn't ask the awfully obvious questions that others would usually ask, the ''are-you-okay?'' Of course I wasn't.

Spencer walked in slowly and sat down on the very edge of my bed, leaving a reasonably comfortable distance between us. I studied him in silence, observing his brown eyes, deciding on whether I could trust him.

''Emma I- I'm not good at this but- I'm sorry we were talking like that. You were the first person we should've asked,'' he mumbled and I realized that what he said had indeed upset me.

''And I promise you that I don't want to hurt you, I just want to help,'' he mumbled. When I looked at him I felt like he was being sincere. It was nice of him to help me, but it was in vain. I knew I couldn't be fixed. I still hadn't said anything.

''Emma- if you don't want me to help you, I will leave and not bother you, I promise. But I promise you, I can help. I won't go too fast, we can go slow, start out simple. Unless you're in a hurry,'' he chuckled slightly. I felt my lips form into something that should resemble a slight smile. He looked back at me, almost begging me to let him help me. Somehow, I don't know how, I managed to nod. He smiled.

''Ok good Emma. But before we start- I need to know what you remember, what happened, and we can start building from that,'' he said. I immediately looked up at him as if he was asking the impossible. He smiled.

''Don't worry, you don't have to explain everything to me. How about you lend me that diary that Dr Gregor made you keep? That way you don't have to talk about it,' he offered and I decided I would be comfortable enough with that. I slowly got up from the bed to grab the diary from my desk and handed it to him. He took it and put it in his brown leather bag.

''I promise you'll have it back by tomorrow,'' he said. I nodded, feeling exposed, but not that scared.

* * *

 **Sorry it took so long guys. Enjoy it and please tell me what you think:)**

 **x Cosette**


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